I was cleaning out my computer and I found this...it was labeled 8/29/2009...
This, pretty obviously, is Spot and Jack in Patrick's world. I believe it was inspired by the Newsies prostitute game, "In 1899 the streets of New York echoed with the voices of prostitutes,...on every corner you saw them..." etc.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
As his car pulled up to the street corner Patrick was relatively perturbed at the fact that any of his favorite hookers did not reside there. There was only a scraggly look boy standing there, looking cold and pathetic; a possible fuck and kill, how interesting.
The car splashed into a puddle and almost hit the youth, but narrowly avoided him, opening the window just a crack. "I haven't seen you around here." Patrick smiled charmingly, yet still with a hint of disgust on his tongue.
"You just ain't been lookin'." The boy said coyly and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his ripped up jacket.
Again, Patrick smiled, attempting to sound amused, "Would you like to see my apartment?"
He looked around but grinned a little, "I ain't supposed to."
"Do you want to come to my apartment, or not?" Patrick smiled slightly and pulled out a small wad of cash, holding it slightly out the window.
The boy's eyes widened slightly and he grinned again, "I ain't supposed to, but I guess I can make an exception." He said as he grabbed the money out of the older man's fingers.
"Do you take a credit card?" Patrick asked and smiled even a little more at the boy's confused expression, "I'm joking, come on, get in." Patrick opened the door of the car and slid over, allowing the boy to sit in beside him, and then the car pulled away.
Immediately he got on the phone and called someone, most likely another whore; so he was one of these guys. The young man didn't say a word as his suspicions were confirmed by the conversation, "I'd like a boy, early twenties, blonde. Who does couples…couples…Yeah, I really can't stress blonde enough…blonde." The man said and hung up his cellular phone.
"I'm Paul. My name's Paul Allen." Patrick smiled to his whore, "You got that?" he asked and the prostitute smiled, nodding, "You're Jack. You will respond only Jack. Is that clear?" and again, Jack smiled pleasantly, and nodded.
When they got back to his apartment Patrick instructed Jack to take off his clothes as he prepared a bath for him, something by this time of night would be greatly received. After Jack got in, sauntering off his well sculpted body, 'Paul' handed Jack a glass of wine and poured something into his bath, then turned off the water. "That's a very fine Chardonnay you're drinking…I want you to wash your ass." Jack looked up at him, smirked, and put down his drink; reaching over for the scrubber and squeezing some water from it, "No, from behind, get on your knees. You have a very nice body." Patrick smiled as Jack began to wash himself; Patrick chuckled slightly as he began to splash him gently.
The phone rang and Patrick grabbed the bridge of his nose, "Hm? Thank you, send him up." The older man spoke, and then hung up, pushing the antenna back into the phone, "Jack, get out and dry off." Patrick smiled as he wiped his hands on an expensive looking towel, and began walking out of the room, "Choose a robe, not the Bigon," he said and pointed to a pile of robes, "And uh, meet me and our guest in the living room for drinks." He left the room after folding the towel and putting it back on another pile, and Jack sat back slightly, and smiled taking another drink.
Patrick arrived at the door to a pretty blonde boy with clear blue eyes, who smirked at him, "You've arrived!" Patrick said cheerfully, "How lovely, let me take your coat." The boy took off his coat and handed it to Patrick, smirking again, "I'm Paul, how good of you to come…"
As they walked into the living room Patrick inspected him slightly from behind, "Not quite blonde are you? More of a dirty blonde…" he said and the boy's smirk faltered just a bit, "I'm going to call you Spot…I'm Paul Allen." He continued and 'Spot's' small smile returned as he sat down on the comfortable couch.
Jack then entered the room, his glass of wine still in hand, and sat down next to Spot, "So, don't you want to know what I do?" Patrick smiled at the both of them.
Jack looked to Spot and then back to Patrick, "No."
"No, not really." Spot said; this being the first time Patrick heard them speak.
"Well, I work on Wall St." Patrick smiled proudly, "At Pearson and Pearce. Ever heard of it?" Spot shook his head and Patrick's smile faltered, turning into a slightly annoyed stare, to which an awkward silence followed.
"You's got a real nice place here, Paul." Jack said uneasily, just to make conversation. "How much did yah pay fer it?"
"Well, actually, that's none of your business, Jack." Patrick said firmly, "But I can assure you, certainly wasn't cheap." He said with his slight smile returning. As Spot took out a cigarette he turned to him and put out a finger, "No, no smoking in here." And Spot put it back in his pocket, "Florida truffle?" Patrick asked either of them, both of which shaking their head, no.
"I don't want you to get drunk, but that's a very fine Chardonnay you're not drinking." Patrick smiled again and got up to the stereo system set up on the opposite side of the room. He turned on the system and held up an album, "Do you like Phil Collins? I'm a bit of a big Genesis fan, ever since the release of their 1980 album, Duke." He made a face and continued, "Before that I really didn't understand any of their work, it was too artsy..." He said as he walked over near the window. "too intellectual. It was on Duke where, uh, Phil Collin's presence became more apparent." Patrick stopped over and leaned against the door frame to the bedroom. "I think 'Invisible Touch' is the group's indisputable masterpiece." He then gestured with his fingers for the two of them to come over to the bedroom, them both glancing at each other with an eyebrow raised before heeding to his request.
"It's an epic meditation, unintangibility." He said as he sat down on his pure white bed, "At the same time it deepens and enriches the meaning of the first three albums." He said and then finally got to the reason the two younger boys were there for, "Jack, take off the robe." He then got up, "Listen to the brilliant ensemble playing of Banks, Collins, and Rutherford…you can practically hear every nuance of every instrument." Patrick then took out a film camera and placed it near the bed, "Spot, remove your clothes." Patrick then commanded.
Spot drew his hands down his body slightly before adhering to the request given to him, "In terms of song writing, this song hits a new peak of professionalism." Patrick said as Spot pulled off his shirt and then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, slipping out of them with ease at his very thin body. "Jack, why don't you, uh, dance a little?" Patrick said with slight hand motions. "Take the lyrics to 'Land of Confusion' and in this song Phil Collins begins to explore the advancement of abusive political authority." Jack began to dance to sensually in the background while Spot sat on the bed, watching Patrick and waiting for his next command, "In too deep is the MOST moving pop song of the 1980's." Patrick continued as he wrapped a silken scarf around Spot's neck, gently, "About monogamy, and commitment." He said and lifted Spot's chin so he could look at his face easier.
"They're song is as positive and uplifting as anything I've heard in rock." Patrick said as he handed Spot some rather feminine looking gloves, but did not question the man he already deemed not quite right…
Adjusting the camera Patrick gestured to the two boys, "Spot, get down on your hands and knees so Jack can see your ass." Patrick continued with his music rant, "Phil Collin's solo career seems to be more commercial and therefore more satisfying in a narrower way." He said and stepped away from the camera, "Especially in songs like 'In the Air Tonight' and 'Against All Odds'." He stepped back from the scene and gestured annoyed, "Jack, don't just stare at it, eat it." Jack looked at him uneasily and awkwardly got on the bed behind Spot, playing with a lock of his hair slightly.
"But I also think Phil Collins works best in a group." Patrick continued, "Than as a solo artist, and I stress the word, artist." He said and walked completely out of the room as Jack began rimming Spot, still very aware of his surroundings and the weirdo around them. Patrick changed the channel on the stereo and pointed up, "This is Ps-Pseudo, a great, great song." He said and walked back into the bedroom, "A personal favorite." He continued as he began to unbutton his dress shirt.
Eventually Patrick had the three of them fucking, Spot on bottom being fucked by Jack, Jack in the middle being fucked by Patrick who was checking his hair and looking at himself in the mirror, self satisfactorily, "Look at the camera." Patrick said to Jack, one hand on his hip and the other pulling back the hair from his face.
Patrick then pulled out of Jack and pulled his heels up to his shoulders fucking him front ways but at the same time flexing in front of the mirror as Spot lay on the bed and watched. Patrick then pulled out of Jack again and began to fuck him doggy style as he looked at Spot, who Patrick then told to look at the camera. Spot smiled and waved to the camera proudly. Patrick then pulled the hair out of Jack's face again and turned his head so he was looking at the camera as he was fucked. When they were finally finished Patrick turned off the camera and they all lied down and fell asleep with Patrick in the middle of the two younger boys.
A few hours later Jack accidentally brushed his hand against Patrick's watch and he awoke, "Don't touch the watch." He said and got up, the two whores still sleeping pulled the blankets up around them.
"Can we go now?" Spot asked and Patrick turned menacingly from what he was doing, rummaging though a drawer of objects.
"We're not through yet." He said firmly.
This was one of my first fics, so be gentle!